Her Perfect Life
by SevenSinsTwificContest
Summary: "People sometimes try to destroy those they are jealous of, but I nearly destroyed my own life, wanting what Rosalie had." Bella hated Rosalie as a child and envied her as an adult. Where did it lead to? Entry for The Seven Deadly Sins Twific Contest.


**The Seven Deadly Sins Twific Contest**

**Title: **Her Perfect Life

**Sin Chosen: **Envy

**Word Count (without Header): **11,296

**Summary: **"People sometimes try to destroy those they are jealous of, but I nearly destroyed my own life, wanting what Rosalie had." Bella hated Rosalie as a child and envied her as an adult. Where did it lead to?

**Warnings: **Character death mentioned. Some indecent language and acts**.**

**Disclaimer:** The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities here. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**Her Perfect Life**

I have known Rosalie Hale since I was five, and hated her since. Well, not her really, just the life she has always had.

We met on the first day of the first day of school at Forks Elementary. My mother immediately pointed her out to me as she opened the car door.

"Just look at that pretty little girl, Isabella! Such beautiful blond hair and shining blue eyes, and so put together. I wish you could be like her."

I looked where a girl of my age was being fussed over by her parents. I wasn't sure what being put-together implied, but it must be something good. A long, shiny white car stood in the background, completing the picture of the perfect family. Mom sighed as she glanced at her beaten up second-hand Chevy with its peeling paint and a large dent on the rear door.

"Some women have all the luck. A rich husband, and an angelic-looking daughter."

My five year-old mind did not immediately comprehend that she found dad and me wanting. But she made it amply clear as the days passed. Rosalie's dad owned half of Forks, being in the construction business. Charles Swan, my dad, was the chief of police. The title wasn't as impressive as it sounded when you considered that the police station had a staff of maybe a dozen policemen. As a child I considered my father to be the most important man in the tiny town, but my mother made sure that she disabused me of the notion.

"Money, Isabella, money is the most important thing in this world," she explained to me when I asked her why she thought Mr. Hale was more important than daddy—even though he did not have a uniform and badge. "Power, position, fame—everything else comes after that. Not that your father has any of _those_ either." Then she stared at the full length mirror on her dresser and smirked. "Well, I suppose good looks are a very close second."

Mom was beautiful—there was no doubt about that. With her golden hair and bright blue eyes, her slender figure and flawless porcelain skin, she could have been a model. Or at the very least, she could have married a millionaire. That's what she always told me. But she made the mistake of falling in love with dad while passing through the town on a road trip with friends. He had helped them when their car had broken down and some drunken characters were bothering them, and mom thought he was so dashing. She chose to stay behind when her friends left, and before she knew what was happening she was married and expecting a baby.

"At least you could have fulfilled my dreams," she sighed to the mirror as I swung my feet while sitting on the bed and staring at her back. Her long wavy hair shimmered like a curtain of gold as she moved her head from side to side. "But no, you just had to look like your father. And you didn't even get his height!"

"Dad says I look like grandma," I amended her statement, because come on, how could I look like a guy? It didn't seem to please her much.

"Well, she is no beauty either, is she?" she asked, clearly not expecting an answer. I shook my head anyway. Grandma was sweet and spoiled me whenever we visited her, which wasn't much since she lived in Florida. Her brown hair was going on to grey, and her brown eyes were kind. She was always cheerful and had a large number of friends. But she wasn't beautiful, not like mom.

"Why don't you befriend Rosalie? You might pick up some useful things from her," she commented while twirling her hair around her index finger and then letting it go, watching as it made a little spiral. By now she had spoken with Rosalie's parents and praised their daughter extravagantly, which had clearly pleased them very much. Mr. Hale didn't talk much, but Catharine Hale had been gracious, saying how important it was for children to have decent friends and that they should plan sleepovers for us. Rosalie had merely smiled politely.

I shrugged. "She hasn't asked me to. Anyway, I like Angela better. She is not a stuck-up like Rosalie."

Mom rolled her eyes. "She is not stuck-up, dear. She knows how to carry herself. And Angela's father is only a minister at the local church. What is the use of befriending her? You will not get anything out of her!"

"We make friends so that we can get something out of them?" I asked, puzzled. Grandma had told me that friends can be the family members we get to choose. Mom was talking about them like we were buying something from Walmart.

"Oh Isabella, you have so much to learn!" she declared in a theatrical manner. I wished she would call me Bella like dad did. Isabella was such a formal sounding name, like a princess from a fairy tale—it was nothing like me. I was plain like a sparrow, small and brown. I liked wearing shorts during summer and playing outdoors. When we went to Florida I didn't care if I got a tan on my skin and freckles on my nose. Dresses seemed like the most useless thing in the world to me. What was the point of wearing something that wouldn't allow me to climb trees and jump over ditches?

However, mom said she liked my name because it was so proper. "I can at least pretend you are the sort of daughter I always wanted," she explained. Clearly I fell short of her expectations.

It did not encourage me to befriend Rosalie though, or even learn to be more like her. I continued to be the tomboy I was and have fun with Angela doing non-girly things. All my mother's words did were to build the foundation of dislike on which I erected the tower of hate against the perfect Rosalie. Even though Mrs. Hale was not exactly a friend, mom got along with her well enough to visit her now and then. It was years before I realized that she was just sucking up to her so that some of Mrs. Hale's privileged life might rub upon her. Every such occasion resulted in a lecture to me to be more like Rosalie. Unfortunately for me, she was the class topper every year, had exceptional skills in debate and recitation, and could play the piano like a pro by the time we were freshmen at high school. When she joined the cheerleading team, boys drooled over her.

Even though I was an above average student, I was nowhere near the top. I just did not have the brains, I guess. Also I knew my parents would not be sending me to some fancy college—they didn't have that kind of money. I won a few medals in track running, but that did not impress my mother. And I had no inclination towards playing any instrument. Not that my parents could have afforded the lessons anyway.

The brightest spot in my freshman year was when Edward Cullen asked me to date him. He was a senior, which should have made me invisible to him. He was also blessed with a gorgeous face and a glorious body—tall, lean, with a chiseled jaw and a striking combination of emerald green eyes and copper-toned hair. When he spoke to me the first time, I almost fell over with astonishment. When he asked me out just before Christmas, I suspected he was pulling my leg. Except that everybody knew of him as the ultimate nice guy. He was a straight-A student and the editor of the school magazine, respectful to teachers and friendly towards everyone. I had no idea what he saw in me.

Of course I agreed, once I was convinced it was not some sort of prank. My parents had very different reactions. Mom thought that I was finally getting to be someone, even if by association. Dad asked if Edward wasn't too old for me. He wasn't satisfied until Edward met him and promised that his intentions were completely honorable. I thought it was very smooth of him, but as the days passed and he refused to do more than kiss me, I realized he had been completely sincere. Meanwhile, rumors were circulating that Rosalie had gone to third base with her boyfriend Eric Yorkie, a linebacker in the school football team. It seemed I was always destined to remain behind her.

When I complained to Edward, he tried to reason with me. "Bella," he said softly while his fingers played with my hair. It was spring vacation and we were at his house, alone. His parents, both of them doctors, were at the hospital. I thought it was the perfect time to do some experimentation, but he did not agree with me. "I agree that the physical part of love is as important as the emotional, but there is a time for everything. I can't take it casually—I never could. Of course I don't know what the future holds for us, once I leave for school. Long-distance relationships are notoriously difficult. Hell, I don't even know if you want to have a relationship with me after this year! Will you give us a chance, Bella?"

I had closed my eyes as his fingers slid down my cheek. When I opened them to answer his question, I found his eyes intense and honest. It made me swallow as I tried to find the right words.

"You love me?" I blurted out. I felt like an idiot and clapped my hands over my mouth then. None of us had made that confession yet, even though Edward's expression sometimes made me think that he felt more than a high school boyfriend usually did.

He smiled that sunny smile of his that could brighten my day in an instant. "Right from the day when I saw you in the cafeteria," he admitted sheepishly. My mouth formed a little 'o' of surprise. But then, I could not help teasing him.

"You are such a romantic, Edward!"

He bit his lip. "Does that disappoint you? I know it's not cool."

I rolled my eyes. "Disappoint? You fell in love with me at the first sight. I am flattered!"

"I sense a 'but' coming on." His eyes were wary.

I huffed in frustration. "Look Edward, I am not saying your feelings are not genuine. But we both know that high school relationships are more often than not temporary in nature. Plus you are every girl's dream—beautiful, brainy and genuinely nice. Once you are at Dartmouth, girls will be falling over you. Who knows how soon you will forget me?"

"I haven't been accepted at Dartmouth yet," he argued.

I sighed. "That is a moot point. You know you will be, if not Dartmouth than someplace equally good. What does it matter whether you go to Dartmouth, Harvard or Stanford? The result is going to be the same!"

Now he looked almost angry. "Your faith in me is touching, Bella. You are so sure that I will forget you that you are not even ready to think of the possibility that I might not. Suppose I guarantee you that I will _not_ forget you. What then? What if you are swept away by someone better looking and smarter than me? Isn't that going to be an issue?"

I laughed in disbelief. "Someone with better looks and brains than you? Are you even listening to yourself? Why would this hypothetical guy give _me_ a second glance?"

He started shaking his head. "Bella, do you really think so less of yourself? Why _wouldn't _somebody give you a second glance? You are beautiful—"

That made me snort loudly. "Please, Edward, I do have a mirror at my house. You don't have to compliment me to make me feel better, you know."

He got up abruptly, took my hand and dragged me to the long mirror on the nearby wall. He stood behind me, with his arms around me and his chin resting on my head. His eyes flashed with indignation.

"Look at yourself, Bella, but this time through my eyes, not yours," he practically ordered me as his arms tightened. "You know what I see when I look at you? I see these deep brown eyes I can drown in, this pretty mouth I want to kiss and kiss and kiss, these mahogany tresses that flow down your back, rippling like waves, and the cutest freckles I have ever seen on anyone's nose. I also see the intelligence and the humor shining in these expressive eyes, and the way your lips lift when you smile. I see a girl who is ready to have fun but also to help anybody who needs it. I see so much in you Bella that I don't have words to express it all at once." His voice dropped to a whisper as he dropped a kiss on my head, hypnotizing me. "I see you in my future, Bella, in all the years of my life. The important thing is—do you feel anything like that for me? Do you think even a little that I could be a part of your future?"

My mouth trembled with emotion at his passionate words. "My mother always told me that I should have been beautiful and intelligent and graceful like Rosalie." It was not the answer to his question, but it was the first thing that came into my mind.

Edward swore uncharacteristically. He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath and tried to control himself. When he opened them, there was nothing but affection in them—and perhaps a little sadness.

"I don't even know how to say this, Bella, but your mother has been feeding you a bunch of lies. Why she would compare you with any other girl, I have no idea, but she is wrong on so many counts. Please stop thinking of yourself like that—you are beautiful as you are. And don't ever try to be anybody else, okay? As for me, I love you as you are."

I swept at my tears, feeling more hopeful than I ever had. "Really? You mean all of that?"

"I mean all of that," he assured me. "Can you now answer my question? What do you feel for me anyway?"

I led us back to the couch. "Honestly?"

"Always honestly."

I took his hand and drew shapes on its back. "Right now, I don't know. I know that I like you _a lot_," I said, nodding my head for emphasis. "More than I have liked anybody in my life—well, except my dad. I know I love him."

He smiled a tender smile. "You do, huh? And what about your mom? Do you love her?"

I wrinkled up my nose. "I should, right? I suppose I do, but not like dad. It doesn't matter to him what I wear, how I walk or laugh or whatever. All he wants is that I am safe and happy."

"Unconditional love," murmured Edward. "Now you understand why I want to wait? He has trusted me with his little girl, and I respect that. I don't want him regretting that."

I sighed. "Yeah, I get it." I put his hand against my cheek and rubbed it—it felt so good. "I do feel safe with you, you know, and happy. Very happy, in fact."

"I think we have a chance then," he smiled, one corner of his beautiful mouth lifting higher than the other. I reached out and poked it, and he laughed and pretended to bite my finger. I squealed.

"I don't have your email."

"Huh, that's right, isn't it? We didn't need them until now, I guess."

We exchanged our emails. The conversation gave me a lot to think over. My father loved me and so did Edward. Did it matter if I didn't measure up to my mother's expectations? Surely she must love me too, whether or not I had all the sterling qualities that Rosalie did. Perhaps she would appreciate me when I was all grown up and had a career, even if it wasn't anything glamorous.

Edward did get accepted in Dartmouth, as well as a bunch of other prestigious schools. He confessed that he had half a mind to go to Seattle so he could stay more in touch with me, but I nipped the idea in the bud. His parents had been saving so that he could go to an Ivy League school, and his grades had helped him get a scholarship that would take care of most of the fees. He couldn't break their hopes!

"When did you get so wise, Bella?" he teased me when I told him as much.

The summer vacation was over too quickly, and then Edward was gone. By then he had introduced me to his parents, Carlisle and Esme, as his girlfriend. Charlie had mellowed some, allowing me to stay out later than usual the night before Edward had to leave. I promised myself I would treasure each and every moment we spent together, and every kiss we had shared. He promised to call me on Skype every Sunday.

"I will share as much as possible on email too, and I hope you will do the same. "

"I will."

"Take care of yourself, okay?"

"You too."

And that was it.

School began and went on with the sameness of every year. Classes, homework and other activities were sometimes punctuated by scenes of teenage drama. Eric Yorkie had left for school as well, and Rosalie started dating James Brown, another jock. Angela was asked out by Ben Cheney, a mild-mannered boy in our class, who confessed he had been trying to do that for the past six months. The strangest thing was that Tyler Crowley, a junior and another member of the football team, asked me out barely a month into the session.

I was in two minds. It was only after Edward had left that I realized how much I had depended upon him. Even if he was just helping me with the homework, he was great company. I had known I would miss him, but not how much. I told Tyler I would ask Edward and let him know. He stared at me as if I was crazy.

"You will ask permission from your ex to go out with me?"

I frowned. "He is not my ex, and if I go out with you, it will be only as friends."

He shook his head but told me to go ahead. When I asked Edward, he encouraged me, saying I had to find out one way or the other what I felt for him.

It didn't last long. Even though I had made my conditions clear to Tyler, he still wanted to kiss me, saying that was how a date should end. When I allowed him twice, the third time he wanted to go further. I had loved to be hugged by Edward, but Tyler made me uncomfortable with his wandering hands. It seemed they were always trying to get inside my shirt. I didn't particularly enjoy his company, and found his kisses too forceful, so I slapped away his hands and told him we were done.

"You are such a tease!" he yelled without caring we were on my doorstep. "I only asked you out because you have been with a senior—you must have put it out to keep him. What is your problem with me?"

What the hell was he talking about? Put it out? That's all he was interested in?

"But I told you we would be only friends!"

His eyebrows rose in disbelief. "Oh come on Bella, don't be so naïve! Boys do not go out with girls as _friends_. Don't tell me you didn't let Edward put his hands on those tits!"

My face flamed like a furnace. Before I could punch his smug, ugly face, the door opened and Charlie stepped out, his gun casually hanging from his hand.

"Is there a problem, kids?" He directed his question to Tyler. "I heard some shouting. Was that you, Tyler?"

I think Tyler almost pissed his pants. He backed towards his car, keeping his eyes on the gun all the time. "No chief, nothing. It was nothing. Right, Bella? We were just—talking, right?"

I bit my lip to prevent the laughter that was threatening to escape at his sudden stuttering and stammering. I nodded, and he sprinted to his car, throwing a goodbye over his shoulder.

"You okay, Bella?" Charlie asked when we were back in the house.

"Um-hmm," I replied, thinking aloud. "Not everybody is like Edward, are they dad?"

Charlie's face softened. "No kiddo, they aren't. Edward is…special."

"I never thought I would miss him so much, though." I blinked as sudden tears threatened.

Charlie kept his gun away and awkwardly patted my head. "He will be home for Christmas, won't he? It's not that long now."

I supposed it wasn't, but it sure did look like it.

Edward laughed when I conveyed Tyler's reaction to Charlie's appearance. However, the part about Tyler yelling at me upset him. After that, I decided it was better to go out in groups.

When Edward came home for Christmas, I was overjoyed. I showed him how much I had missed him by peppering his face with kisses. He let me take his shirt off, saying I was now sixteen so it was okay. Even better, he took my shirt and bra off and kissed me all over. For the first time, I felt his hardness through his jeans and mine, felt myself go off on a trajectory of delight, felt him shudder and collapse against me…

I said I might be in love with him—it certainly seemed like it. He grinned widely. "I will wait for the rest, Bella. I know it will happen."

It did. Not immediately, but by the time he came back for the summer, I was convinced that what I felt for him was love. It had been sneaking upon me, this feeling where I would get lost in his thoughts for hours, the way his hands had felt on my skin, the way his lips had worshipped me, the way his eyes lit up when we were together…

This love for Edward, and the fact that he loved me too, remained wrapped around me like a protective bubble. I didn't care how popular Rosalie was or how many times my mother praised her to my disadvantage. I decided to take an associate degree in Accounts from the Peninsula College in Port Angeles. That was something that interested me and my parents could easily afford. I may not become a big shot, but I could still get a decent job. Edward already had plans to be a doctor, like his parents. By the time he became one, I would be working and able to contribute in our household expenses. I smiled at that one and shook my head at how ahead my dreams were getting. I was still in high school!

Far-fetched or not, Edward listened to my plans with the utmost attention. I had started babbling as soon as we had finished kissing and feeling each other up in his room. It was really a great benefit of having working parents.

"So, you have been planning for the future?" he nudged me playfully, but his eyes were serious.

I nodded, feeling a little shy now. "Yeah, I mean, it seems a reasonable plan to me, but if you think I am dreaming too much—"

He silenced me with a quick kiss. "Do you see me with you in these plans?"

"Of course, that's why I—I have realized over the past months that I do love you, Edward. I probably did earlier too, but I didn't know for sure."

The smile that spread on his face made me feel all warm inside. "Oh Bella," he whispered reverently, "I can't tell you how happy that makes me feel. This is the best moment in the whole of my life. I have been dreaming of this for such a long time…"

I was surprised and touched. I was _that_ important to him? "You seemed mighty sure of yourself the last time we spoke about it!"

He scratched his neck, the tips of his ears pinking up. "Well, I didn't want to seem desperate, you know? I was hopeful, of course, but it's not something that can be forced, so…" He pursed his lips and tilted his head. "Now that you have said it, I am relieved. Happy. Everything is good!"

~ooo~

Nine Years Later

"Ed-ward!" I yelled, knocking on the bathroom door.

The door opened to reveal a very naked and very wet Edward, his hair full of shampoo suds. "What happened?" he asked anxiously.

I giggled at the sight. "Nothing bad. I have to use the loo. Can you step out for a second?"

He looked at me like I was crazy and mopped the suds that were beginning to get into his eyes. "That's it? You couldn't have just gone while I was in the shower?"

My nose wrinkled. "No way. That shower doesn't even have a curtain. You would have seen me!"

"Like I haven't seen you naked before!"

"That's different! Now please—"

He rolled his eyes but wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out on the mat. When I finished and opened the door, he was blocking it, a mischievous smirk on his beautiful lips.

"Aren't you going to thank me?"

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. "Um, thanks?" I tried to duck out from under his arm.

"Oh no, not so quick." He grabbed me easily at the waist, not caring that my top was getting damp. "Come in and help me wash the shampoo. You interrupted it, after all!"

"Edward, you are getting me all soapy!"

"So I am. Guess I should help you clean up." He winked at me and pushed me back until we were under the shower.

I shivered as I stared at my ridiculously good-looking husband. We had been together for years now, but the attraction between us had not waned a bit. Of course four of those years had been spent doing the long-distance thing. It had not been easy—not at all, but we had a goal in mind and were ready to make sacrifices for it. In fact, it would have been longer had Edward not put his foot down when it came to which medical school he would join.

"Seattle is among the top ten in the country," he had stated firmly when his parents had pointed out he could go to Harvard. "You wanted me to have an Ivy League education, and I have it. I am not spending another four years across the country—seven if you count the residency. I want to work here anyway, near my family and friends. What is wrong with that?"

His parents could hardly object to his wish to be near them, and so the matter was resolved. As soon as I got an associate degree, I joined him in Seattle and found a place to intern. The small accounting firm valued sincerity and hard work, so after I proved myself to be reliable and smart they offered me a junior position and an opportunity to better myself. I could take evening classes meant for professionals and achieve a full degree in two years. They would help me with the fees provided I was ready to pay them back from my salary until it was all covered. I knew it would be good in the long run, so I accepted.

The next few years were super-busy for both of us as Edward completed his medical degree and went through a grueling residency, and I focused on work and studies and then more work. Finally my loan was paid and I got a small promotion as well. At the same time Edward got an offer to finish the final year of his residency from the MSC—McCarty Specialty Care—a renowned hospital even though relatively new in years. The hours would still remain crazy, but the salary would be much better. Things were definitely looking up.

A month before joining MSC, Edward proposed to me, begging me to make an honest man of him. I knew his original plan had been to wait until completing his residency in Internal Medicine, so I was somewhat surprised, even though I said yes immediately. He explained that Michael Newton, whom he knew from the medical college and who had recommended him to the director of the hospital, had assured him that he would get a good position there as soon as he completed his residency. They had a preference for family men and took good care of their staff.

"They are already offering us a nice apartment in the campus area, and if we get married they will give you a job as well," he said excitedly. "Then there is a good maternity leave with pay, childcare program for working mothers, and one of the best private schools in the country for children, free of cost—"

My eyebrows climbed up to my hairline. "Maternity leave? Childcare? Now you are thinking of kids too?"

He shrugged, laughing a little at his enthusiasm. "I know—I am running ahead of myself. But really Bella, it was all about expenses, right? Now that _that_ has been taken care of, why can't we think about having kids? Of course if you want to wait—"

"One year, okay?" I raised a hand, loving how his eyes sparkled at the thought of a shared future. "We have been so busy with work and studies—let's just relax and enjoy each other for a year. After that," a smile curved my lips upwards as I too allowed myself to dream, "we will go for a baby. Okay?"

"Okay," he nodded. "Now come with me." He began to drag me to the bedroom of our tiny apartment, his smile mischievous.

"Where?"

"Well, you know how particular I am, right? Making the most perfect baby in the world takes practice, Mrs. Cullen! Let's get to it!"

~ooo~

And so we had got married, in Forks. We kept it simple even though his parents and mine offered to help with the costs, not wanting to waste their money. For honeymoon we chose a four-day trip to Hawaii—one of those package tours that don't burn a hole in the pocket. Then Edward joined MSC and we moved into our two-bedroom, fully furnished apartment near the hospital. I was surprised by how decent the furnishings were. The campus area was well-maintained too, with facilities for both adults and children. There was a swimming pool, baseball court, playground for children, even a grocery store with enough for one's daily needs. It was like living in a miniature township. The best part was no long commutes to work. And yes, I was offered a job there within the week as well, which I accepted happily.

It was almost a month when we were invited to a party thrown by Emmett McCarty and his wife. It was held on the weekend before the fourth of July, and was open to all the doctors who were working at MSC, and their wives/girlfriends of course. By then I had heard a lot about Mr. McCarty's wife from my colleagues and was very curious to meet her. She was supposed to be beautiful and intelligent and perfect for the great man. They had met at the business school where she had been studying four years ago, and had been married for two years now. Everybody was in awe of her.

"Edward, we will be late for the party!" I protested half-heartedly as his hands kneaded my breasts. Not that they were exceptional in any way, but he loved to touch them anytime. Maybe he just was a breast-man.

"Eh, we are newly married. They will understand." One hand went to my panties and then one finger entered me, making me forget my worry. I swear the guy had magic fingers or something. I could feel his hard-on between my cheeks while he brought me to completion. As soon as he felt it, he instructed me to bend and place my palms against the tiles, and then he was inside me, his cock massaging my walls in the best way. I groaned loudly when he finally came, gasping for breath under the gentle rain.

We giggled as we dried and dressed hurriedly. When we reached the McCarty's house, only a few minutes late, my mouth fell open at the opulence of the place. It was like the showstopper in a top class fashion show.

Jessica Newton, who worked as an elementary school teacher in the campus and was Michael Newton's wife, met us at the door. Evidently she had been granted the honor of greeting the latecomers and escorting them to the hosts. As I gaped at the lavish surroundings, she explained that the whole of the first floor was designed to entertain guests.

"They throw parties frequently, you know, because they have such a large social circle," she informed me as proudly as if she was the one organizing them. She must be close to our hosts. I felt a teeny bit jealous of her. "For very close friends, there are always guest rooms ready in the back, near that Olympic-size pool."

I glanced towards the French windows she was pointing at. Even in the dim lighting outside I could make out part of the pool, the water shimmering darkly, and a few rooms behind it. It was certainly nice to have money like that!

Our hosts were surrounded by people fawning upon them, of course. From the back I could just make out that both of them were tall and very well-dressed. Mrs. McCarty was wearing a daringly cut black gown which had some kind of golden shimmer to it. Her hair too was golden, and tied in a sleek up-do to one side. I was just admiring her for her poise when Jessica called out to her and she turned to us, diamonds winking at her slender throat and her wrist as she stretched her hand to shake mine. My eyes met hers, and recognitions struck me instantly, even if I could not believe who I was looking at.

Rosalie Hale.

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at me. "Isabella Swan? Is that really you?"

I tried to smile but I wasn't sure how it came out. Shaky, probably, like I felt. I did succeed in responding to her query though.

"Yes—well, it's Isabella Cullen now," I stammered, feeling my cheeks become warmer for no reason. _Except that this is the girl who overshadowed your growing years, who had a greater place in your mother's heart than you did._ I shut up the tiny voice and shook Rosalie's hand.

Her head tilted a fraction. "Cullen?"

Emmett McCarty spoke from her side, drawing her attention and mine. "Ro darling, meet Edward Cullen, our newest resident in Internal Medicine. Michael tells me he is a brilliant young man and will be a great addition to our permanent staff."

"Well, isn't this a surprise?" trilled Rosalie, looking really thrilled to see us. "Em, these are old friends of mine—they were with me throughout school." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, her movement graceful as a model's. "Well, Edward was senior to us, so I guess I can't claim friendship with _him_. He probably didn't even notice me, ever."

Edward cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "You were impossible to be unnoticed, Mrs. McCarty. We didn't just…move in the same circles."

Rosalie waved her hand delicately. "So formal. Please call me Ro—all my friends do. And Isabella—can I call you Iz? It suits you, I think."

I blinked at her warmth. I was sure she barely knew me at school. Why was she claiming friendship with me? Whatever the reason, I was touched by her cordial manner. Perhaps I had misjudged her earlier. Perhaps she was a genuinely nice woman under all the glamor, and my mother's partiality to her had colored my perception. Well, I could be gracious too.

"Why not? It would be a nice change," I replied, smiling better this time. "I've always been Isabella or Bella, so…it might take some time to get used to it."

"Oh, we have time, don't we Iz? I'm not going to let you slip away this time." Her tone turned playful. "You just disappeared once you went off to school. What did you take your degree in again?"

"Accounting." I was truly glad that I had completed my degree, however difficult it might have been. How embarrassing it would have been to admit to an associate degree? "I am working at MSC now."

Rosalie said that was great, simply great.

"You went for a business degree, right?" I probed in return. "That's really cool." The admiration was not untrue in this case.

She shrugged. "Uh, it's a useless thing, nothing that a smart woman can't learn with some hands-on experience. Em is kind enough to let me putter around the hospital's finance department, so I don't get bored. I am sure you do a much more important job, keeping the accounts and all."

It seemed we had formed a mutual admiration society. It wasn't unwelcome to me. She was the boss's wife, after all. If she wanted me to be a close friend, why would I mind? Maybe it was change for her to see someone who had known her before becoming Mrs. McCarty.

I had a wonderful time at the party. Ro, as she insisted I call her, introduced me to a number of people. Most of them worked for the hospital, but some were business acquaintances of Emmett's. The later were unimaginably wealthy, all designer clothes and watches and jewels. It was my first exposure to what money could buy, at close quarters, and I found myself wishing I was one of them.

While going back I kept on babbling about how grand the party was, but Edward remained quiet, almost sullen. Finally I asked him what was bugging him.

"I never thought you would be impressed with outer trappings, Bella," he answered, his arm falling from my shoulders as we reached our apartment. I looked at him curiously.

"What do you mean? Didn't you enjoy yourself?" I fished the keys from my purse and unlocked the door, but didn't open it. Edward hesitated before answering me.

"I enjoyed it all right, but…I have never seen you so taken by the showings of wealth. You prefer to look deep inside things, you know. But today—today you were different."

I shrugged. "I guess I never had an opportunity to see what money can do. Our social circle before this was very different—no millionaires to boast of."

"What was wrong with those people?" he sounded perplexed. "I thought you liked them!"

"I did." My voice sounded defensive and high-pitched, like we were in a soap opera. "How does my enjoying a party mean I didn't like our earlier life?"

Edward gave me a speaking look. "All right then, let's not spend the night arguing on our doorstep. I have an early shift tomorrow anyway."

Yeah, on a Sunday. Being a resident sucked.

I told him we were not arguing. It was a lie, of course. We were not saying what we really meant. I could begin to see why mom complained about her life and was star-struck with the Hales. I was definitely envious of Rosalie.

If I thought Rosalie had been whimsical that evening, she proved me wrong. She visited me in the accounts department and discussed my work and hers. She frequently invited me to lunches—both social and working, and weekend parties. Some of the parties were exclusively for women, and I had many new experiences there, including visiting a strip club where the strippers were male. I was awed by how broad-minded her husband was. Edward would have had a conniption at the plan, which was why I did not tell him.

Of course he had to find out the one thing I wanted to hide. He would not listen to my chatter about how important Rosalie was making me feel—Jessica had been flabbergasted when she came to know that I could call her 'Ro'. She had not even known her full name! Rosalie even discussed with me the plans they had for the expansion of the hospital and the facilities on the campus. She said they wanted the best doctors in the country to join MSC, and hinted that Edward and I could play important roles later on.

Anyway, so Edward paid no attention to me when I narrated to him all these exciting possibilities. But the evening after my visit to the striptease club, he returned from his shift with a particularly disconcerting expression on his otherwise beautiful face. When I asked him what was the matter, he snidely replied that I had become more of Iz and less of Bella, and sometimes he did not know me at all.

"What do you mean?"

"You went to a strip club with Mrs. McCarty?"

My insides froze for a moment, but then I found courage to speak. I was an adult woman—I didn't need to explain every action of mine, even to my husband.

"So what?"

He shook his head and smiled—if a humorless pulling up of lips can be called a smile. "That's exactly what I meant," he answered cryptically and went off to the bathroom.

He didn't want dinner, and he didn't want to talk with me. That night, for the first time since we had been together, he turned his back on me instead of cuddling me.

I felt like crying, but then my pride took over. If he could be cold and distant, so could I. For hours we lay silent and unmoving. I drifted in and out of sleep. Finally I felt him turn to me. He put his hand on my shoulder.

"Bella, I am sorry."

His soft apology was my undoing. The tears I had kept imprisoned behind my eyelashes broke forth in a rush, and my whole body shook with their force. Edward tried to turn me to him, but I wouldn't let him.

"Baby, please look at me." He sounded desperate as he pleaded to me. "I am sorry I acted so unreasonable. It's just that…Emmett walked in during lunch and told me about it. When I looked surprised, he laughed, saying that perhaps you didn't trust me enough—that you must have other secrets as well. Can you imagine how bad that sounded? Newton was there too—he added that I was not used to high life maybe, but he could teach me. I wanted to punch him—the pretentious ass!"

That I could understand. I turned to him finally and buried my face in his chest. He exhaled in relief and stroked my hair, apologizing again.

"Let's never let this happen again, Bella. It was torture, being near you and yet so far—I felt I couldn't breathe. Just—next time tell me, okay?"

"I thought you wouldn't like it," I muttered into his neck as I raised my face. He snorted and shook his head as his hands moved to my back, large and comforting. My sobs quietened.

"I can't imagine any guy actually _liking_ his girl ogling another male, let alone a naked one. But I would have liked to know anyway."

"They weren't naked, you know."

His hands progressed to my ass and began to knead the cheeks. I groaned with pleasure.

"So what—they were wearing a banana hammock? That thing doesn't conceal much."

His cock ground against me as he pulled my hips closer until they were flush with his. I could feel my panties becoming damp.

"Edward!"

"Hmm?"

"Less talking, please. And I am interested only in your _banana_."

He chuckled and rolled me on my back. "Thank heavens."

~ooo~

So the make-up sex was great. And I did not hide any of my outings with Rosalie and her coterie from Edward again. In fact, I told him everything—even what he didn't want to hear.

"Ro took me to best bar in town today. The cocktails were so pricey, but she insisted on paying for me."

"Emmett had taken Ro to Europe for their honeymoon, and she liked it so much that they go on every anniversary. She said Paris was fabulous."

"Ro says she can get me a discount at her favorite boutique. She is a valued customer there because she shops there all the time."

"Ro is taking me to Las Vegas next weekend. She says I must experience the casinos there."

And so on and so forth. I was completely submerged in the McCarty's lifestyle, not caring whether the bills were being paid on time or not. If I could not be Rosalie, at least I wanted to live like she did. My salary was much better than what I had before joining the MSC, but still it was not enough. Dresses, shoes, bags and diamonds—I wanted it all. I wanted to vacation in exotic places. Finally I had understood what my mother had meant by saying money topped everything.

I also understood that I would never have Rosalie's kind of life while we remained mere employees. Even a promotion wouldn't help us achieve all that. I began to nag Edward about opening a hospital of his own. The first time I mentioned it, Edward looked at me like I was speaking gobbledygook.

"What are you talking about, Bella? We don't have that kind of money to invest. Emmett's father is an oil tycoon and he loaned him the capital required to start this business."

"We can start small, Edward. And I am sure your parents can help us." But he was already shaking his head.

"They might be doctors, Bella, but even a small hospital requires more money that they have. And anyway, how can I ask for their savings when they are about to retire? Emmett is a businessman through and through. I am a doctor. The most I can think of is to open a clinic after we have saved some money over the years. First I have to make a name for myself so that the patients trust me enough to come to me. Anyway, I have never been very ambitious—"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I know. You want to have a happy and peaceful life while helping people." I sighed loudly. "But that's not enough for me, Edward. I want to live like Rosalie." Another sigh. "I wish you were more like Emmett."

He looked stricken, and I was horrified at my statement. When had I turned into my mother? I apologized immediately, explaining that I didn't mean it like that. But the damage was done. He didn't smile for days after that.

The fact was, I did wish he was more like Emmett. Not physically of course, even though Emmett's extremely fit physique and cheeky dimples made him quite a ladies' man. No, Edward was beautiful. I still appreciated his chiseled features, his warm, clear green eyes and his full lips, still loved to tousle his thick copper-toned hair. But he was just so…laidback. He didn't have the swagger Emmett had, the charisma that drew people to him like bees to honey, and the drive to succeed. His beauty was a quiet beauty—he was an unassuming man who paid no attention to it, or care whether his clothes were expensive or not. There was a time when I thought these were desired traits, but now I could see they didn't make for a brilliant life.

As the months passed he became more and more withdrawn. I tried to goad him into the hospital thing again, but he hardly replied except for shaking his head. I began to feel stifled in the relationship, spending my free time with either Rosalie or Jessica. When I told Rosalie how stubborn Edward was, she sympathized with me and suggested that I be patient and keep working upon him. I even went to the extent of sleeping in the other bedroom at her suggestion, but it didn't help.

A few days before Edward's residency was to finish, he asked me if I would like to move to Forks permanently. "There will soon be an opening for an internist there as Doctor Banner is retiring. Dad called me today to let me know. And…Bella, Forks is a nice place to live, to bring up our kids."

There was a time when the idea of having kids with him would have made my ovaries explode, but that day it just annoyed me. Didn't he know how expensive babies were? Then I realized what else he had said. "You want us to leave Seattle?" I asked, horrified. I could see all my dreams turning into ash right there.

His tone was half-hopeful, half wary. "I have been thinking about what you said, Bella. Look, living in Forks means we can save more money. Then we can start with a clinic, maybe in Port Angeles. After a few years we can think about a hospital, with some loan from the bank. By then I will have a reputation and—we might never be as rich as the McCarty's, but I promise we will have a good life. We will travel, and you will be able to shop—"

I huffed in frustration. "Edward, just stop. At this rate we will be paying back loans until we are sixty and vacationing in Europe on wheelchairs. This is just too slow. Plus I don't want to leave Seattle and go back to old-stick-in-the-mud-Forks. It will finish what little life I do have." He looked so hurt that I rushed to add, "Maybe we will find a way if we continue here for a while?"

He twisted his fingers together before looking at me. "I don't want to continue here, Bella. This hospital is not the right place for me—for us." He took a deep breath as I looked at him, puzzled. "Emmett—he offered me a deal today."

"What sort of a deal?"

"When I become a full-time internist here, he wants me to prescribe whatever drugs—painkillers mainly, but some hallucinogens too—that some of his friends want." I stared at him blankly. "They are addicted Bella, and Emmett supplies them through the hospital so that they don't have to go to drug-dealers. If I help him do this, he promises to change our life 'for the better', as he said. I will get extra money every month— tax-free. Being an internist, it will be easy for me." He looked slightly disgusted.

I felt my heart speed up. "So what did you say?"

His expression became one of disbelief. "You need to ask that? I refused, of course. I am a doctor, Bella. My job is to save lives, not feed people's addiction!"

"But if you don't do it, someone else will!" I cried, feeling like I could grab his shirt and shake him. "Edward, why did you let such a good opportunity pass? We could have gotten rich so fast!"

He was shaking his head. "Bella, how can you say that—how can you even think of that? Is money everything to you now? What about my integrity?"

I snorted. "Integrity? What good is that? Will it give us a good life while we are young and comfort us when we are old? Will it pay for our children's college education? Edward, I don't know in which world you are living—you better come back to real life and show some spirit, or life will pass us by and we will be left holding to your _integrity_ while the rest of the world enjoys itself." I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. "You go to Emmett before he changes his mind and tell him you will do it, okay? Or I swear I will end this marriage—I have had enough!"

His face lost all color. "Bella, you don't mean that," he said as if he was being strangled.

I didn't, not really. But I assured him that I did mean it and flounced off to sleep in the other bedroom. And I slammed the door, hard.

The week dragged by, heavy and silent. Friday was Edward's last day as a resident. I was sure he would capitulate to Emmett's proposal before he left the hospital that evening. I was sorry for putting him through such misery, but I was sure he would be happy in the long run. I was in a good mood.

An hour before my shift ended, I noticed a minor discrepancy in a supplier's account. It was nothing to worry about, but I was meticulous that way, so I checked the entries for the whole of the past year. Then I moved on to other accounts that dealt with the supply of drugs and various machines used in the hospital. By the time I finished it had become clear that there was deliberate fudging going on. The hospital was making more profit than it showed, and the shareholders were being cheated on a grand scale. It was quite possible that the same thing was going on in other departments too, but I didn't stop to check more. I decided that it was the perfect time to show my loyalty to Rosalie. I burned the information into a CD and went to the McCarty's palatial home. Edward must have accepted Emmett's offer by then, I thought. Together we could have a very good life.

The guard at the gate waved me in, familiar because of my many visits. He also let me know that the Newtons were already inside, as were two other couples. Rosalie hadn't mentioned there was a party or anything that evening, so I was slightly puzzled. I went in anyway.

The great hall was dark, but outside there was a full moon, and I could hear soft voices from beside the pool. I neared the French windows, ready to step outside and call Rosalie, and then stopped abruptly.

There were three people splashing in the pool, and five people outside. Rosalie was lounging in a plush recliner, naked as the day she was born. Her hands covered her heavy breasts. I could see that she was playing with her nipples. But my attention was drawn to the dark head buried between her thighs. As it bobbed up and down, flowing locks parted at the side.

Jessica Newton.

My soft gasp was swallowed by the loud groan of a male half-lying on an S-shaped lounge. The reason for the groan was an unclothed woman bouncing in his lap, reverse-cowgirl-style. Her breasts jiggled as she moved energetically. I knew her: her name was Irina and she frequently joined our outings. The man she was riding I had met only twice, but I was sure he wasn't her husband.

Emmett was sitting on a rattan chair, idly twirling a cocktail glass between his thick fingers. His expression was one of amusement.

"Hey, Ro," he called as if Jessica was invisible.

"Yeah."

"Are you sure Cullen will break down? Seems pretty stubborn to me."

Rosalie gave an unattractive grunt. "Oh, he will. I have primed his wife well. She won't let him breathe until he bows to her demand." She yanked at Jessica's hair. "You are losing your touch, J. I might have to train Iz to take your place."

Jessica raised her head and scoffed lightly. "Good one, Ro. Like she could do any of this. Did you notice how she was squirming at the strip club—little miss prim and proper!"

"You will be surprised how willing a few pills make a person," drawled Rosalie, gesturing to Jessica to resume her movement. "She is already so much into this life. Once Cullen agrees to work for us, she will be totally entangled. I will corrupt her to the extent that she won't be able to recognize herself in her mirror. For years I had to watch her enjoy her life while I had to be Miss Perfect for my parents—talking and walking and damn near _breathing_ like they demanded. I was so jealous of her freedom! As for that gorgeous piece of man-meat that is her husband, he will rue the day when he ignored me at the school. How could he ask _her_ out when I was in front of him?"

The woman who was reverse-cowgirling gave a high-pitched moan and stopped. She lay backwards upon the man, who had been grunting his own satisfaction. He wound his arms around her and began tweaking her nipples. Then he spoke.

"Will they join our swingers club, do you think? I would like to have a go at Cullen—he is rather delectable."

"Uh-huh, Jared, Cullen will be my bitch." Emmett—sharp and decisive. "After I have had my fill of him, Ro might give him a chance to please her."

"And how will you persuade him?" asked Irina, her hips moving a little and making Jared groan. Emmett smirked maliciously.

"Well, there are those little pills Ro mentioned—enough to make anybody my slave once I have got them used to the darlings. Plus, the false prescriptions he will write will make a useful weapon to blackmail him. You will see, he will be caught like a bug in a spider's web." He took a deep swallow of his drink and placed the glass on the edge of the pool. "Hey man, would you like to have a threesome with Cullen's pretty wife? The thought of her hot, wet mouth gets me hard every time, and you will love her tight ass." He placed his hand on his cock and began to stroke it.

My blood seemed to have frozen in my veins as I listened to the conversation. Their plans made me feel faint. How could they be so callous? How could they be so pleased to try and demean us? What had we done to them to warrant this?

Slowly, silently, I moved back to the main door. Outside, the guard wished me a good night. I muttered something back.

I walked home in a daze. My head was overflowing with thoughts, some of the past and some present. I recalled how excited I had been when Edward had asked me out, how grateful when he had declared his love, how thrilled to see him during the vacations, and how I had thanked God when he had moved to Seattle to be close to me. I remembered how sweet he had always been, how patiently he had listened to me rant about a bad day at work, and how he would massage my shoulders and back when they had ached. He always made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the whole world. He was open in his admiration and his need for me. And what had I done to him?

I had been so eaten up by envy that I had forgotten everything good I had learnt in life. I had nagged him to compromise on his values and threatened to leave him if he didn't. I had compared him to Emmett!

My vision was blurred as I unlocked the front door. Thick tears of grief poured down my face as guilt hammered my heart. I had a gem of a husband who was ready to bend over backwards, and…

I stumbled over a chair in the dark living room. Why was it so dark? Wasn't Edward home yet? Or…had I driven him away finally? But there was a faint light coming from the bedroom—the one I had been using lately. I dragged my feet to the half-open door.

Edward was lying face down on the bed, his arms crossed underneath him and acting as a pillow. His face was away from me, so he did not see me as I entered softly. His body shuddered as a sob broke from him. It broke my heart. What had I done to him?

"Edward." I gingerly placed my hand on his back. He sprung up as if touched by a live wire. Then he shocked me by pulling me to him, hard. His arms were wrapped around me as if they would never let me go. My face was squashed in his chest, making it difficult to breathe, but I didn't move away.

"Bella, I'm sorry, sorry, but I couldn't do it. Please don't leave me."

I tried to say I wasn't leaving him, but my voice was lost in the soft cotton of his shirt. He went on.

"I was going to tell Emmett yes today—I was, but I just couldn't. It was like the words got stuck in my throat. I wish I could give you the life you want right now, but please, don't ask me to go against my grain. And please don't leave me—I can't live without you, Bella."

That made me cry harder. It also made him pause and look at me.

"Don't cry, baby. We will figure something out, I promise. Just give me some time."

I began to blabber my apologies, asking him to forgive me again and again. He stared at me, completely confused.

"What are you—why are _you_ saying sorry to me, baby?"

"IheardthemtodayEdward," I gasped, then realized how garbled it had come out. I took a deep breath and then another, and repeated myself, slowly this time. "I heard them today—when I went to their place to tell Rosalie—" I suddenly remembered the CD in my bag and looked around.

"I must have left it on the chair…"

"What, baby?" Edward asked in a soothing tone. I probably sounded crazy to him.

"Just a sec…" I rushed to the living room and flicked on the light. There it was, on the chair I had stumbled against. I fished out the CD and waved it in the air. Edward had followed me, questions written on his face.

"There were mistakes in the Kyle Pharma account—well I thought they were mistakes—so I checked the whole year and the year before that, and then other accounts as well. They are being fudged, Edward. I—oh God—I thought I would let Rosalie know that I was loyal to her, so I went to her place. The Newtons were there, Edward, and two other couples. They were all having—sex, but not with their partners, and Jessica was going down on Rosalie."

I looked up to see his eyes widen with shock. "They were talking about us, about how we will be trapped in their lifestyle and have to—join them eventually." My mouth had gone dry and it was difficult to push the words out. Edward's face was a picture of horror. "Emmett said he would blackmail you until you gave in—you know, with the prescriptions you would write for his friends—and Rosalie—she boasted that she would get us addicted as well. We would do anything to get the drugs then—_anything at all_. Their words were so degrading—they made my skin crawl!"

Edward sank down on the sofa, his head in his hands for a long moment and his eyes closed. I guessed he was trying to prevent himself from berating me for trusting the McCarty's blindly. Finally he looked at me.

"What did they say about you?"

I gaped at the unexpected question. I was expecting more of an 'I-told-you-so' statement than anger over the McCarty's opinion of me. "I don't—it doesn't matter. Nothing complimentary obviously." I laughed weakly.

He raised an eyebrow. "Bella." His tone made it clear that he wanted an answer.

I sighed and sat down as well. "Well, Rosalie assured Emmett you will break down soon as she had made sure I was after you to do so. She said she will somehow get me addicted to 'those little pills', so I would be more or less a slave to her. Including getting her off, I suppose. She said she will corrupt me completely. And the strangest thing was—she admitted she was jealous of me while at school because I had so much freedom." I shook my head in disbelief. "And here I was, burning with envy because I thought she had everything in life! How very stupid of me!"

Edward nodded slowly. "Perhaps it was, but Bella—you are still a much, much better human being than she is. You made a the mistake of being dazzled by wealth—"

I moved to him and sat on my knees in front of him, supporting myself on his thighs. He pulled me closer and his hands went to my back, comforting me. "Edward, lots of people are dazzled by wealth. My stupidity was trying to get that life without working for it. But it's more than stupidity—I forgot the distinction between right and wrong. What's more, I tried to get you to do the same." My eyes burned with tears again. "I can never forgive myself for that."

"I forgive you."

I blinked at him. "How can you? I was horrible to you!"

"Because you wanted a better life for us—"

"But I did it all wrong! You don't do that to people you love, even if you think it is better for them. I made you suffer—"

He stopped my babbling by kissing me passionately. My lips, my eyes, my neck—all were showered with kisses until they felt like tiny points generating heat. All my guilt and disgust was burnt away as his lips told me that whatever I might have done, he still loved me—a miracle.

"I have missed you so much," I whispered. His arms tightened painfully.

Without any more words, we walked to the bedroom—our bedroom—shed our clothes, and got lost in each-other. And found ourselves again.

~ooo~

Both of us resigned from MSC the next day, citing 'personal reasons'. The next day we moved to Forks, having packed our clothes and personal effects. Since the apartment had come furnished, we didn't have to bother about anything else.

Carlisle and Esme were delighted to see us. So was my father. My mother pouted in disappointment that I had come back to waste my life in 'stupid Forks'. I didn't even bother to answer her.

We sent the CD I had to a prominent news channel, with information on what was going on at MSC. It wouldn't have been enough for a trial, especially because we had not given our names, but it turned out that the hospital was already under suspicion. A major investigation was conducted, resulting in a number of convictions.

The night before the final judgment, Rosalie Hale-McCarty was found dead in her bed. The police stated she had overdosed herself on a combination of drugs.


End file.
